


The curse of love

by rayrayswimusic



Series: Event Fics [15]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fortune Telling, Gift Fic, M/M, Shadow_sensei, Shifty Skater Exchange, beauty and the beast inspired curse, dystopiansushi, love curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-07 12:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12233211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayrayswimusic/pseuds/rayrayswimusic
Summary: Love and Fortune.Both are simple yet complicated facets of life.A curse and a gift. Which is which?





	The curse of love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadow_sensei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_sensei/gifts).



> Hope you like this love! I apologize for how much of a mess this is, but I hope you like where I went with your prompt!
> 
> It was a lot of fun really! Definitely not a topic I’m knowledgeable about - fortune telling - so I had to research quite a bit (please be aware this doesn’t make me an expert so expect mistakes)

Glancing up at the sign, he warily glanced around, uncomfortable at being there for a multitude of reasons. The most important being his lack of belief in the subject, yet the almost fervent way Chris had spoken to him urged Viktor to give a promise he had not meant. His mind unfortunately made up, Viktor took one final steadying breath before he plunged headfirst into his first fortune-telling session.

As he brushed aside the deep burgundy tent flap, Viktor began to smell the strong scent of bergamot and coffee which permeated the air. At first he was stunned by the cloud of smoke that wafted past his face, before he managed to control himself and look around the room.

Sitting in the middle was a woman almost hidden in the shadows of the tent. He was able to see a smile build on her face as he walked further inside. At her hand wave, Viktor sat down on the stool in front of the small table. Her voice, unlike what he imagined, was rich and homely. It filled him with a sense of tranquility though subconsciously he knew that wasn’t how he truly felt.

“Hello, Viktor Nikiforov.”

His eyes widened, surprised that she knew his name without him saying a word. For a moment he believed it might have been her fortune-telling abilities, but he soon remembered that being who he was resulted in a certain level of fame from every faction of the world. For all he knew, she was a fan of his.

In front of her were a deck of cards, ones that Viktor only vaguely recognized as tarot cards from his slim knowledge of fortune-telling. But before he could say anything she held out her right hand, palm facing upwards before speaking.

“May I have your hand Viktor? Shall we begin with looking into your past before we look into the future.”

Wordlessly he placed his hand into hers, his curiosity building as she ran her fingers gently over the smooth lines that span his palm. She kept speaking, her tone soft as her index finger followed the line outlining the area around his thumb.

"There is much we can learn from the past that is essential in developing the future. Even if one is a skeptic like yourself." That line was followed by a small smirk before she focussed on his hand once more.

She closed her eyes before speaking, letting out a deep exhale. "You've been through alot in your life haven't you, Viktor? Your dream, while noble and beautiful it was, hid you from those who cared and only put more disdain upon your shoulders by those who pretended to care,” she smiled softly, “ did it not?"

He flinched at her words, wanting to rip his hand from hers and leave, but he couldn't. Enthralled by her, Viktor was forced to simply sit and listen to her words without speaking. Her fingers moved once more across his hand. "You have found some friends who are closer than family, I can tell because this line is happy. I'm glad, your life is not as lonely as it was before."

With that, she let go of his hand and placed her own on the table. He remained frozen for a few moments before realization struck and he shook hands myself before putting his hand back down on his lap. A scowl had formed on his lips, for no one had ever realized how he had been treated growing up. For it wasn't till he was actually famous did his family support him.

Mama Nikiforova was an icon in the business world, and his papa was one of Russia’s renowned musicians. What did little Viktor have to show against the power couple of Russia? What friends he'd had up till his 14th year supported his dream to be a figure skater, but mama and papa had been against it from the beginning.

Only the first gold he received in the junior Grand Prix that made them look up. To see Viktor's growing strength but more importantly how they could use him for their own betterment.

No more could he simply practice around school hours, tutors came in at all times of day to keep Viktor educated around the complicated schedule his parents designed.

He didn't choose his own music, or at least no one in the public knew that he didn't choose. All the songs were carefully chosen by his father either from his own compositions or from those his papa wanted an in on.

Then his mother came in, somehow even more ruthless then towards her own rivals and enemies. Controlling his diet, his spending, which competitions, who he spoke to, what news companies got the “Exclusive Interview with The Viktor Nikiforov, son of the famed business tycoon and The maestro himself.”

The ice became his freedom but also his greatest prison. For their words were always, “it's for your own good Vitya, only we can help you become great,” but what followed pierced his heart, “otherwise, why skate?”  
  
Coming back to the present, Viktor felt his scowl deepen once more but he waited, noticing her careful behaviour to be as blatant as possible around him. Biting his anger back, Viktor managed to ground out a reply. “Can we move on from my...past now?”

Infuriatingly, her smile only seemed to get softer when looking at him. Nodding she passed her hand over towards the tarot cards.

“Viktor Nikiforov. Your past told me much and though I sense much skepticism from you, I'd like you to try to focus on what you hope the future will be like.” Her hand returned towards her lap as she nodded at the cards. “Please shuffle the deck, for as long as you want to, but when there's a feeling of needing to stopping, do so.”

Slowly he reached forward and lifted the deck, the weight of the cards was no different from a regular deck of cards but he felt the urge to hold them a bit more carefully. Shuffling the cards, Viktor glanced back up at the fortune teller, only then realizing that he had never gotten her name as she immediately knew who he was. At one point, the deck felt as if shuffling it more would be...sacrilegious. When he went to hand the cards back to her, she shook her head and spoke again.

“Cut the cards at any point in the the deck, but when you do, be sure to focus on your dreams, goals for the future, and anything that you want to know about yourself specifically."

He raised an eyebrow at her vague request, but shrugged and ran his finger down the side of the deck. At one point he paused, a little above the middle of the deck, feeling as if this was where he should stop. Before he lifted the top half of the deck, Viktor focused on the part of his future that he had never once told anyone, a dream where he was no longer the Nikiforov but simply, a loved one of someone else. And even under all the hesitance, Viktor prayed for this dream to come to fruition.

He didn't want to be alone anymore.

He cut the deck.

The woman's smile only seemed to grow when he placed the cards onto the table. It seemed that she could tell what he was thinking, which was a ludicrous thought as none of this was truly real, simply the tricks of a more-observant-than-most woman.

Viktor was confused as she then asked him to choose a card from either of the piles and place it in the middle of the table. Doing so, he then listened, now even more confused, as she had him repeat the process and create a plus sign, with one card perpendicularly placed on top of the middle card. Four more cards were lined up vertically beside the card before she then had him combine the remaining cards into a pile.

Reaching out for the pile of cards, the woman sent an almost proud smile at him before speaking, "thank you for doing that Viktor, now we can answer your question. I could feel it burning within you. This one, I believe is one that you have held onto for years."

His head shot up from the cards at her words, his body shuddering as her tone sensually dropped low, for just a moment.

“Correct, Viktor?"

Not trusting his voice at the moment to not squeak, he weakly nodded. At that, her heavy lidded eyes raised, and became brighter, while her tone was lighter and not as heavy.

Lifting the cards one by one she showed them to him, not saying anything as he was only able to stare blankly at the cards. He vaguely recognized one as a jester from medieval times, while another looked similar to a priestess. Oddly enough, one with the traditional view of the lovers was also shown to him, which made him flinch.

As she began speaking, Viktor found himself once again unable to speak as her voice belied hidden meanings. She slid the lover's card just a bit closer to him, which was when he noticed that unlike the others, this one was reversed.

"Your life, like I mentioned before had been difficult, and the decisions you made about your loved ones was difficult, but it was fruitful. The lovers."

At that, she moved a card with a wizard on it towards him. "The magician, is one to show a great challenge was overcome, to show that you achieved greatness through your own hard work. The cards tell me you did this, but at a great personal loss. Yet still..."

The priestess card from before was pushed in front of him.

"The question you had in mind, is a little closer to being fulfilled. For there are things destined to occur that are out of yours and my hands. But, things are in your favour from now. These two were together."

He looked down and saw that the card with a jester on it joined the priestess card in front of him. Quirking an eyebrow he waited for further explanation.

"A difficult challenge, set by some hidden powers in your life, but even with the risks, my advice is to follow your heart."

At that, she pulled her hands back completely, resting them on her lap and giving him a gentle nod. The session was complete. As he went to pull out his wallet and pay the fee, Viktor noticed that her eyes were locked on his hands, or specifically his right hand. Moving it out of sight for a moment, he watched as her eyes tracked it before locking onto his face.

With an utmost serious tone she spoke, "I have one more thing for you Viktor Nikiforov. Beware of candy wrappers tonight. Keep the eyes not on those around you but firmly on the ground." She seemed out of breath from her words, her chest unexpectedly heaving as she raised a hand to steady her breathing.

But instead of taking her seriously, Viktor could only laugh at the thought of having to worry about something as miniscule as a candy wrapper. "A candy wrapper? And next I'd assume you'd like to watch out for the candy itself?" He smirked, "you know at first I actually believed you, or at least my skepticism had begun to wane over the hour, however, watching for a candy wrapper is absolutely irrational." He paused before speaking again, this time his voice harder, "so please. Don't mistake me for gullible, and keep your nonsense to yourself."

He threw the bills onto the table before turning to leave the tent. His hand had just brushed the fabric before he felt a chill run over his back.

Shuddering, he pulled his jacket tighter around him and turned around. The fortune teller had stood up, and though her head was pointed down, he could see that her hands were curled tight, into fists.

Her voice was almost sickeningly sweet, dripping with honey.

"You know nothing about this art, yet even when I've given you nothing but answers, you have decided to scorn my work." Her shoulders straightened as her head lifted to look at him in the eye. "May you remember this day Viktor Nikiforov, as the day where your life changed. To change you from the bitter person you have become, I give you this gift, though I believe you would see it as a curse."

She stepped around her table, allowing Viktor to see that her dress extended to her feet, stopping just shy of the tent floor. She pointed at him and hummed lowly before opening her mouth, "by your thirtieth birthday, you must find the person who will complete you, to heal the shattered edges of your heart. They must declare their love three ways: words, emotions and actions. If you don't..." Her voice hitched before it relaxed again, "you will die."

He flinched, stepping back away from her, before he realized how impossible her words were. Scoffing, Viktor turned around and brushed aside the tent flap. Just as he was leaving he heard her speak one last time.

"I did not know who you were before you stepped inside my tent. Good luck Viktor Nikiforov, the cold one."

———

Confusion bubbled in Viktor's chest, though outwardly he behaved as if the fortune-teller's words had, had no effect on him. Yet as he walked back towards the subway, he found himself unintentionally scanning the ground for wrappers.

Realizing that he was simply falling into her trap of a self-fulfilling prophecy, Viktor shook himself quickly. Cracking the muscles in his neck, Viktor glanced around to see that the station was fairly empty.

Deciding to head back to his hotel room, Viktor went to walk towards a ticket counter to buy a ticket for the ride home. However, before he had made it halfway to the counter, Viktor suddenly found his arms flailing and feet slipping from underneath him. In a frantic attempt to protect himself from injuring his feet,

Viktor through out his arms in front of him, hoping that his upper limbs would be able to support his weight.

Instead, he had reacted quickly causing his right ankle to give out and twist uncomfortably when it hit the ground. With his forehead pressed against the cool cement ground of the subway station, Viktor was able to hear the concerned sounds of the people around him, and struggled to stand up. He could feel his foot screaming at him to not move but ignoring the pain, Viktor stood up and smiled weakly at the surrounding people. Waving off their concerns, Viktor glanced down and looked at what he had tripped over.

A candy wrapper.

Connecting the dots, Viktor's eyes nearly popped out of his face. The fortune-teller hadn't been wrong. Limping to the counter, Viktor slammed his hands down, using the force to brace himself and his foot. Ignoring the glare he received from the woman working, Viktor simply bought the ticket he needed and limped onto the subway.

On the ride home, he tried valiantly to ignore the obvious connection his fall had indicated, and almost succeeded as he walked to the hotel. Entering his room, he slumped down into a chair and sagged against it in relief. Prodding at his ankle proved that it was simply twisted meaning that in the next couple days the pain would go away, as there was no swelling. The pain was just an annoyance and had dulled substantially since he had fallen.

Unfortunately, the fact that he no longer had pain meant that nothing was stopping him from thinking about what had happened. Limping to his bed, Viktor slipped under the covers, making sure to prop his ankle up on one of the pillows before fully lying down.

With his thoughts jumbled in his mind, he began speaking out loud, wishing that he'd had the foresight to bring Makkichan with him for this competition, instead of leaving her at a dog sitter's.

"The fortune teller warned me about candy wrappers. I fell down after slipping on a candy wrapper." He was struggling to understand how she had been able to predict something like this, as even now he was extremely hesitant to believe in the art. Forging on, he kept thinking aloud, "when I scoffed at her, she cursed me to die if I didn't find someone I love before my thirtieth birthday."

Swiftly sitting upright, Viktor almost screamed as he checked his phone and saw the date.

**Nov, 30th. 11:59pm**

His eyes widened even more.

_My birthday is in 25 days. I'm going to die...in 25 days, if I can't convince someone to fall in love with me._

At that realization, Viktor promptly fainted, only waking up the following day because of the incessant ringing of his phone. His last thought before he fainted was one to be mourned about.

_Who would love someone like me? Who could I love..._

———

With his ankle only twinging from pain when he put too much force on it, Viktor spent much of the day, trying to ignore his inevitable death, keeping himself busy.

He had no doubt that while he might have been able to find love, someone loving him with all his flaws would be impossible. And worse,they would have to show it three ways.

It was an impossibility he didn’t want to think about.

Of course, instead of working on wrapping his life up, if he truly was to die in twenty five days, Viktor spent his time booking as much private rink time as he could. Being The Viktor Nikiforov sometimes has his perks - people rarely hesitated when he asked for a favour.

That mindless sheep behaviour would normally frustrate him, wishing for Yakov’s gruff demands or even, in the deep recesses of his heart, his parents emotionless orders. Anything to find someone who would refuse him as much of his dramatic personality came in part to push people to refuse him, the other to rebel against the confines of his cage.

But the last month of his life was one in which he rejoiced the ease of finding the ice when he needed it. It wasn’t simply the place he was happiest, but the one place in the world that Viktor knew that any judgement he was given was for his own talent. Not the competition, but the youngchild who sneaked in to watch the mister with the beautiful spins, or the girl who worked just a little longer and was late for her class to watch the stranger leap in the air.

The cold ice was more warmth for his heart then any hug of a parent he’d ever received. I’m a way, the ice was his salvation and family. The beginning of his day and the end was the cold ice. With blades scraping harshly a toss it, the familiar noise a soothing one to his tremulous heart.

When he was done at the ice, Viktor found himself exploring the city, trying to imprint the last place he was going to be into the farthest reaches of his soul. One night, he found himself slipping into a bar, sitting on the stool only to find himself locking eyes with a pair unlike any other he’d seen before.

The pale skin of the other man’s face suddenly began to turn pink, before a bright red blush overtook his cheeks. Eye contact was abruptly broken, leaving Viktor foundering to understand what had just happened. The confusion slowly melted away into understanding as he realized that the bartender was a fan of his. And judging from the bright red flush and stuttering request for his order, a big fan.

Flashing his strongest smile, Viktor ordered a black velvet from the flustered man. For a moment Viktor was confused as to how such a shy and nervous person was working in such a social position. Then he saw the man begin his bar flare.

Talented was not the word for the bartender’s ability to throw around the multiple glass bottles or his mixer. Every movement seemed to be one that was carefully decided. But what through Viktor off was the calm, serene expression on his face had easily replaced the flustered, red one from before.

To fall so deeply into your craft that any distress you might have felt melts away, was one that many coveted. Viktor was fascinated, all his worries disappeared the longer he continued watching. When the bartender was finally back in front of him, Viktor couldn't hide the smirk at the sudden blush, and hesitance in his hand as he mixed the drink. When the glass was slid over to him, Viktor simply smiled before lifting it and tipping it into the man's direction. As the night passed, he found himself watching the bartender interact with his customers. Some were clearly regulars as they didn't even order before there was drinks sitting in front of them.

To Viktor's amusement, a couple girls, college students he assumed, even attempted to come up and flirt with him, but to his credit the bartender either didn't notice or was extremely tactful in his letdowns. Something told Viktor that this was a common occurrence. Viktor could see the appeal, as he was tempted to. Deciding to follow his gut feeling, Viktor finished the last of the drink he'd been nursing before pulling out a small card and pen from his wallet.

When he signalled is for the bartender to come over, Viktor slid over the amount he owed for the drinks. But as the bartender went to pick up the money, Viktor dropped a small piece of paper on the counter. Grasping his hand, Viktor winked before speaking, “call me beautiful?”

Sauntering out of the bar, Viktor glances back to see a brilliant red flash across his skin. Musing to himself, he continued walking, back towards the subway to get home. Perhaps it was the alcohol in his system that affected him for he began laughing at the sheer ludicrousness of his life.

_I’m going to die in less than a month and yet here I am flirting with a random bartender from a random bar in the USA. What am I doing._

But as he settled into his bed back in the hotel, only one thing played on his mind as he allowed Morpheus to take over.

_He looked really good in red._

———

The following day Viktor finally found out the name of the bartender. The man who had filled his dreams thaw precious night. It rolled off his tongue well, the five syllables dropping like nectar from his lips.

_Yuuri Katsuki. What a fascinating person._

The conversation was stilted, with Viktor attempting to be his flirtatious self while Yuuri embraced his awkwardness even more, and wrote in full sentences with an apology for each statement. But within a couple of days of Viktor coaxing Yuuri out of his shell, he had text messages that were incredible amusing.

The night where Yuuri had apparently gone out drinking had pulled loud laughter out of Viktor’s throat. Drunk Yuuri was a much more emboldened version of sober Yuuri, with lots of pick-up lines and smooth talking.

His favourite message though was one from Yuuri during one of their early morning conversations.

 **3:52 AM - Re: YUURI  ❤️ :** I’ve idolized you since I was 10, but I’m glad I got to meet the real you. It’s much better.

Viktor didn’t know the context to this text as it had come out of nowhere but he could feel the sincerity emanating from the message. His heart felt like it had stopped for a moment when he read the words: “real you. It’s much better.” The message seemed to relieve a tension he hadn’t known about in his body.

After that Viktor couldn’t find it in him to stay away from Yuuri. Even with the impending tragedy of his birthday, he found his smiles lighter than any in his life before. From texts, it evolved into hour-long phone calls. Nothing was kept off the table, though Viktor withheld only one part of himself, the ugly side. The part of him that craved to be accepted by others and would change himself to fit their expectations.

Viktor had always felt alone, even when around his team and Yakov back in Russia. He knew they cared for him, and he, them. But no matter how much he tried, Viktor found they seemed to prefer his dramatic self, or his quiet focussed persona. Not many liked the side of him that could stare at pictures of dogs for hours. The side that woke up at 3am on weekends to eat peanut butter. The side that was awake on the hot nights, but asleep on the cold ones. The side of him that cared too much, nor did they like the side that didn't care what others thought.

As the days passed, drawing closer and closer to the inevitable, Viktor found his soul lighter than it had been before. Yuuri was like a breath of fresh air, with his awkward hesitance melting away as Viktor found every way possible to bring a smile to the shy man. Pulling him out of his shell felt like a game, with the reward being a slight upturn of lips, eyes raising to meet his briefly before glancing away. He had never gotten a laugh, but Viktor had seen the bitten lips, suppressing the laughter threatening to burst out.

They went out constantly, neither giving a label to their coffee dates, the trips to the zoo and aquarium, when Viktor managed to pull Yuuri to the ice rink and watch as the confusingly klutzy man melted away to show an unexpected skill on the ice. With arms comfortably wrapped around his waist, Viktor watched Yuuri freely glide around the ice, a vibrant smile on Yuuri’s face. Though they never named what it was they were doing, Viktor knew deep down that he felt something for the bartender. Yuuri saw him, not his public persona, not his parent’s son, nor a figure skater.

There was the day they went to a coffee shop that Viktor had fallen in love with. The comfy chairs, and dim lights were enough to fill Viktor with a homey nature. The other benefit was the almost meditative relaxation that took over Yuuri was unlike anywhere else. When questioned, Viktor found out that it was because Yuuri had spent much of his college years frantically writing papers till the early hours while downing the coffee’s famed coffee. As a professional figure skater, Viktor usually tried to watch what he ate and drank, but something about the atmosphere left him complacent and willing to follow the sweet and motherly barista’s suggestion for a more sugary latte.

Over their drinks, they chatted, minutes melting into hours. Yuuri’s hands wrapped around a large mug of coffee, his glasses just barely fogged up from the heat. Lounging in the wide chair, Yuuri had managed to bring his legs up in front his chest. To Viktor he’d never seen a more perfect and adorable person in his entire life.

“How long have you skated Yuuri? I began when I was seven years old, though then it was only a hobby. A club that my parents allowed for the athletics behind it.” Viktor carefully made sure to not mention that he’d had to beg them for permission to remain in the club at school, and the tutoring his parents had ordered for him in order to make up the wasted time were also left out. As he listened to Yuuri’s reply, Viktor found himself for the first time getting distracted.  
Had he been only speaking about skating? Was there anything he’d asked Yuuri about? He knew Yuuri had gone to the university near here and was actually now working to save up money before going back the following year. But what had he studied? What was his family’s names? What were his hobbies?

Placing the mug on the table, not as gently as he would usually, Viktor ran a hand through his hair before glancing over at Yuuri. The man in question had frozen when Viktor had put the cup down. Concern flashed over his face as Viktor simply continued staring. A bright red flush began to spread across Yuuri’s face at the intense stare. Viktor’s words were quiet, struggling to hide his horror.

“Yuuri...have I been only speaking about figure skating all this time? Have I managed to bring anything else to this conversation.” His revulsion continued growing the more the words fell from his mouth, “am I only worth something because of who I am? Viktor Nikiforov, the Russian Figure Skating giant, or The Nikiforov, son of the business tycoon? Musician? Am I more then my skating?”

Before he could fall deeper into his own self-hatred, Viktor found a hand suddenly in his view, grasping his hand. His head snapped up to see a bright red Yuuri glaring at him. The force of his hand was enough to make Viktor wince but nothing was said for a moment. Then Yuuri opened his mouth.

“Viktor, shut up. You are so much more than your skating. No matter who you are, whether a Russian Legend, or your parent’s son, I lo–” Yuuri froze before clearing his throat, “l-like, you, for your smiles, for the happiness you show when someone is performing on the street. When you were able to sign that little girl’s hand.” Yuuri blushed deeper as he finished. “You’ve spoken to me about Makkachin, about your favourite books, tv shows, and movies. I found that your favourite Japanese food is not sushi, but udon. You asked me about my family, about me. My dog, Vicchan.”

Viktor felt Yuuri move his hand back, and almost reached out to keep holding on, but managed to stop himself in time. He felt something warm on his cheeks and realized that Yuuri’s words had brought tears from him. He was sure now, there was no one else in the world that he could love more than Yuuri. His body relaxed, another tension in his body disappearing, as if a second checkbox had been ticked.

The evening eventually reached its conclusion, with Viktor and Yuuri exiting the cafe. Taking the first step onto the street, Viktor glanced briefly to only see a car a good distance from them. About halfway across the road, Viktor found himself suddenly shoved forward, his arms flying out in front of him to cushion his body as he fell. Glancing back, Viktor was only able to watch in abject horror at the sight before him. The car had slammed straight into Yuuri’s body before driving off.

Screaming, Viktor pushed himself up, ignoring the stings in his shins and palms from the fall, and rushed to Yuuri’s side. His heart stuttered at the blood that pooled around Yuuri’s abdomen. Panicking, he barely managed to punch in the number for emergency care. Speaking for Yuuri was nerve-wracking, but the only thing that kept Viktor upright was the sight of a weakly rising chest. Yuuri was still alive.

Getting off the phone with the operator who promised that help was on it’s way, Viktor turned all his attention to Yuuri. He didn’t know what was wrong, but Yuuri had saved his life, and was now seriously injured, if the amount of blood that leaked was any indication. With shaky hands, he brushed off the dirt that had wound its way into Yuuri’s hair. The gesture, alerted Yuuri who blinked slowly, pain visible in his eyes as he glanced around before landing on Viktor.

Seeing Yuuri’s eyes staring up at him, Viktor nearly cried in relief as he spluttered when attempting to speak. “Y-Yuuri, why did you? You idiot, you got hurt for me! Why would you do that?” His hand had entangled itself into the hair, using it as an anchor before he fell over. He didn’t expect a response, so when Yuuri tensed, Viktor’s eyes shot down to Yuuri.

“V-Viktor, I...” Yuuri struggled to breathe, his chest rattling as he managed to mumble the rest before passing out, “...ve you.” Viktor’s eyes widened, a small smiled spreading on his face.

———

In the hospital room, he sat on the chair with his hands clasped in his hands nervously. His eyes kept glancing up at the figure on the hospital bed. Wringing his hands once more, he went to stand and pace once more but then heard a groan from the direction of the bed.

Spinning, he saw that Yuuri had woken up, though the pain in his eyes was still there, though visibly dulled thanks to the medication he was on. Viktor almost leapt on Yuuri, overjoyed to see him awake, but at the last time realized that wasn’t the smartest decision. Still, there was one thing he could do before Yuuri fell back asleep.

“Yuuri,” a gentle smile was on his face as he glanced down at the most important person in his life. Viktor could see the exhaustion in Yuuri’s face and hastened to get to his point. “I love you too Yuuri. Get some rest.”

He walked over to the door to go call the doctor, but turned around in time to see the shocked face melt into a loving one as Yuuri relaxed into the pillow and go back to sleep.

As Viktor closed the door to the room, his phone, left on the bedside table turned on for a moment. If he had seen the screen, Viktor might have found the date just a bit more important.

The phone showed the date and time: **_December 25th, 12:00 am_**.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this! Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave any comments!
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://rayraywrites.tumblr.com/post/166117269840/pairing-yuuri-katsuki-x-viktor-nikiforov)   
>  [writing blog](http://rayraywrites.tumblr.com)


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